


The Floozies save the day

by TheLSpacer



Category: Paul shapera - Fandom, Shaperaverse
Genre: Because Raven's going thru it, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I read some of the Helen’s hell hags tweets today and I just love their relationship with raven TwT, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, The Floozies are best girls, its fluffy at the end promise, ps Lloyd is just mentioned in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24806728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLSpacer/pseuds/TheLSpacer
Summary: While stuck in the Carnival, Raven manages to tune in to The New Albion Radio Hour.Just in time to hear Lloyd call him his ex.Thankfully, The Floozies are there to help cheer him up.
Relationships: David 'Uncle Raven' Adams & The Floozies (Shaperaverse), Lloyd Allen/David 'Uncle Raven' Adams (Shaperaverse), Lloyd Allen/Raven | David Adams
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	The Floozies save the day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Earako](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earako/gifts).



> So this was a story based on Adelid(NADS)/Earako(AO3+Tumblr)'s [post](https://earako.tumblr.com/post/621102424853200896/the-l-spacer-i-can-angst-too-imagine) about Raven being able to hear Lloyd's broadcast (ps go check out her writing its GOOD). She wrote angst and I decided to balance it with some fluff! 
> 
> Also this is from The Floozies' pov, and I haven't really gotten a hang of their voices, so please excuse if this reads weird haha
> 
> All that said, enjoy the story!!!

The Floozies hate seeing Raven Baby so unhappy.

Or at least, even unhappier than usual, since ‘unhappy’ is pretty much their boss’ default state of being. He thinks he hides it well, of course, behind his manic grins and show-stopping numbers and shots of rum thrown back one after the other during the after-parties, but being the ones that actually _run_ the place, The Floozies know that once he’s out of sight of the crowd, or alone in his dressing room (they weren’t spying, okay? They just needed to pop in to borrow some stage makeup and saw him practically _wilting_ as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, muttering something about a man named David), ‘Uncle Raven’ fades and dims, just a little bit, and standing in his place is, well, a man. And a pretty unhappy one at that.

All that’s to say that lately, he’s been more down than usual, and The Floozies know exactly why.

It’s the fault of that darn radio.

* * *

Now it’s no secret that Raven Baby likes the radio. He had explained to them one night, as he saw them lounging backstage, listless from boredom, how playing the radio while stuck in the Collective Unconscious was a tricky but intriguing process. 

The Floozies remember the excited sparkle in his eyes, as leaned forward with all the airs of the ‘Intrepid Merchant’, and told them that with some luck and skill, they could tune in to an _infinite_ number of broadcasts, from places real, fictional, and like the Carnival, somewhere in between. Raven Baby even gave them a demonstration, skipping over frequencies that talked of boring matters like ‘politics’ and ‘current events’ and ‘and now, the weathers’, before settling on a station that played an unfamiliar but catchy showtune.

One of The Floozies’ eyes widened as she realised he had sung that exact number during one of his more raucous shows, wholeheartedly claiming it as his own composition.

Raven Baby had grinned a slow grin, winked, and mimed pulling a zipper across his lips. The Floozies winked and grinned back, giggling in conspiratorial delight. 

Since then, Raven Baby always let The Floozies listen to the radio with him, hopping from station to station together, their little escape from the carnival that doubled as their gilded cage.

Until that one night, when their boss turned the little knob on that little box, as he always did, tweaking it’s antenna until the hiss of static resolved in a tinny voice that issued from the radio’s speakers, announcing, “Welcome back to the New Albion Radio Hour!”

The Floozy swore up and down that Raven Baby honest-to-God flinched at the sound, but before she could ask why, had stood up with a clatter, snatched up the radio, and practically ran back to his trailer, where he remains even now.

To be fair, they _had_ managed to coax him out once or twice, mostly to eat or inspect some ride malfunction manufactured on the spot. Every time, he would emerge looking haggard and worn, and every night, as they silently listen outside the trailer ( _not. spying_ ), they would hear the radio still playing that same channel, that same voice.

* * *

Something had to be done.

As one, The Floozies march up to Raven Baby’s trailer, open the door just a crack, and take a peek inside. As expected, there he sits, in front of the radio, where an unfamiliar voice was talking about ghosts. His head is cradled in his arms.

“Are you doin’ okay, Raven Baby?” They venture in unison.

One eye cracks open and stares blearily up at The Floozies, standing awkwardly at the threshold.

“You didn’t knock,” is all he volunteers in way of a response.

An apologetic ‘meep’ issues from Floozies one through four, who begin inching back from the doorway. Floozies five and six say, “You didn’t lock yah door, Sugar.”

“Use your imaginations. Picture a locked door right where you’re standing. A locked and shut door. Now picture yourselves walking away.”

“But-“

“-Walking. Away.” One arm raises languidly and motions to shoo them off. The voice from the radio continues to drone. 

Reluctantly, The Floozies exit the trailer, with the exception of Floozy six, who says, “Raven Baby, if you need anyone ta talk to, you know where ta find us,” and ducks out before he has time to react.

* * *

The Floozies agree that their mission went about as well as they expected.

They also agree that getting thrown out of their boss’ trailer (albeit politely) wouldn’t stop them from listening outside, an activity that was quickly becoming a new nightly pastime. 

As they huddle, unseen, outside Raven Baby’s trailer, straining to catch the broadcast, they can’t help but find themselves fascinated by the stories of monsters and witches and realities they cannot begin to comprehend. When they realise that many of the ‘astonishing’ tales narrated are tales Raven Baby had regaled them with whenever he grew nostalgic over some playhouse, The Floozies begin to put the pieces together. 

This was a matter all to do with their boss’ past, something that had always been a confusing puzzle to them, made of names and events and timelines all jumbled together willy-nilly.

The final piece falls into place when they gather that the radio show is hosted by a man named ‘Lloyd Allen’, who dovetails each story with meandering ones of his own. He tells of his present, his past, and most importantly, how said past intersected with that of their boss.

…the very same boss who would mutter this Lloyd’s name whenever he drank too much, or when the Carnival got too quiet, alternating between raging bitterness and a quiet ache every time he did.

The Floozies were dead certain Raven Baby had called him his ex.

So that was what was up. 

The day after their realisation, The Floozies leave an assortment of pastries at Raven Baby’s now-locked door (pastries were what people who went through breakups were supposed to eat, right?), several bottles of water, and some aspirins (God knows how much he’d been drinking since he first heard the broadcast) for good measure. Even if he doesn’t want them around, they can still support their favourite person from afar. 

They can’t help but feel the slightest bit of satisfaction when they find the empty pastry tray sitting outside the trailer the next day, along with a note, on which is scrawled a simple ’thanks’. 

And then one night..

_“Maybe, I’ll even be able to track down my boyfriend. My old boyfriend. My boyfriend. I would never be disloyal to him or turn my back on him no matter how many years pass.”_

The Floozies don’t quite catch the rest of the broadcast, as Raven Baby lets out a sharp sob, audible even through the trailer's walls, and they quietly return to their own tent.

* * *

The next day, The Floozies enter the kitchen to find a Raven washing dishes at the sink. He looks awful, frankly, but still a whole lot better than he was the last time they saw him. As he notices them, he gives a wave and a small smile.

On the counter sits a plate of freshly-baked cookies.

The Floozies smile back.

They spend the afternoon together, laughing and joking and sneaking cookies from the cookie jar. They paint each others’ nails and Raven Baby even lets The Floozies tie multicoloured ribbons in his long hair. 

They decide to include him in their sitting circle, something they had never done before, but hell, if anyone could use a sitting circle, it was Raven Baby. It takes some time, but he finally tells them of the man in the radio, of Lloyd. He cries a little, but it’s all okay, because the Floozies have more than enough hugs between them to spare, and more importantly, have his makeup touched up in a jiffy. 

An hour later, Uncle Raven strides onstage and gives the best performance the Carnival has seen in a long, long time, backed up, as always, by The Floozies.

And the world seems to brighten, if just for a moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Raven is officially invited to all The Floozies' girls nights after this btw
> 
> Hope you liked it! Please let me know what you think (im always a sucker for comments). Thank u for reading ily


End file.
